He saved my life
by Writing5Ever
Summary: One solemn rainy day in the poorest district in Panem, a starving Seam girl has lost hope for getting even a crumb of food. But what happens when a certain baker's boy gives her bread, which saves her life?


"I promise you, Prim. I will get back home with food. Promise." I say as I kiss my sister's forehead. She nods and looks at me with tearful eyes, threatening to spill like waterfalls at any moment. One of my most hated things to see my sister do; cry. But what am I supposed to do about it when I myself have been letting her down? I've only kept us both alive with boiled water and some mint leaves from the cupboard to make some kind of tea, and I swear that the hunger has crawled up on me, no, us. And I hate feeling bitten by the dust, unable to do something when I am the main provider. My mother is dead to the world, to us, and has completely turned away. After father died the whole house was a wreck, and the gloominess seeped into my mother and she just sat there, curled up tightly, her eyes drowned into nothingness. But she didn't know something; she didn't know that she just dropped the bomb on me and my sister, forcing us into starvation and being able to wait on her, to wait on nothing.

"You p-promise, K-k-katniss?" Prim stutters, her bony frame shivering from the cold. I look at my mother whose eyes are drowned in sorrow and I quickly look back at Prim. As if looking at my mother would make living easier.

"Yes, I promise, Prim. I won't let anyone drag us into the community home, I promise." I put on my jacket and hug her tightly. Her eyes start to spill with tears. "Why are you crying, Prim?" I ask her stupidly, like I don't know what's going on in her mind right now. But I have to take it slowly, she's just so little, and fragile. But I'm little myself. I've merely crossed half my life and I'm the one to be the provider. But who else would? My father blew to bits in the mine explosion, and my mother is dead to the world. I can't rely on Prim, obviously. She's already having way too much on her plate.  
I shove on my boots and tackily tie my hair into a short-ish braid that barely exceeds my shoulders. I fasten a hat to my head and move out, telling Prim reassurances and what she will do without me at home. I see her nod and I run away from the house, pushing the door behind me close.

My run turns into a drag when hunger crawls to me. My stomach growls and I try my best to ignore it, and I try to look at the houses, for scraps and the like. We're too hungry to get all fancy with store bought food. My father used to know how to hunt, he was our food provider. I came with him, but without him by my side in the woods, I would burn to dust. I'm powerless against those animals.

I scrounge around the grocer's trash bin, hoping for some discarded vegetables. No luck. I check the butcher's bin, surely he would have some left overs, right? Well, his bin is swiped clean. No traces of food in there. I walk, well, trudge through the puddles and the puddles are luckier than me. At least they don't have to put up with hunger.  
I walk along more, and then I near a smallish building with a glint of warmth seeping from its windows. I know who lives here, the baker's son. We have never talked to each other, but my father used to trade with his father, and we caught glimpses of each other a few times.

The scent of fresh, baking, oven bread nearly kills me. And I'm snapped back into the reality that I will never have some. I try scrounging through the bakery's bins, and well, spotless as the others. Is it kill the hungry Seam girl day? Because it does seem like it. I look through the last one and a mix of a screech and a scream greets my eardrums. It's the bakers wife, or the she-devil of the district. I call her the witch. My father and I could only trade without her around.

"Get out!" she bellows, nearing me slowly. "Get out you filthy Seam pig! Out!" she screeches, like I'm a fly on a piece of food. I slowly lift down the lid. I trudge back into the rain, finding myself hitting my back onto a tree. "What have I done?" I mutter to myself, tightening the jacket around my shivering body. "If I'm going to die, I'd want Prim to be safe" I slowly think to myself. "Please let me die in the rain now" I think more, thinking of the benefit Prim would receive. She'd be in proper care, even in the battered up community home. She'd be fed, But what would happen to my mother? Would she be a criminal, for leaving two minors alone to fend for themselves? Or would she be given care in the community home, too? But I can't let them go. I can't let myself go. I promised my father this.

Just then, I hear a sudden loud scream followed by a slap. What could have happened?  
"Feed it to the pigs! Burnt bread like that wouldn't be a good thing to sell! Stupid boy!" I hear the witch bellow out loud as her son walks out of the house. He looks at me with a sorry expression and takes bits of the burnt bread, and then throws it at the pig's pen. The animals eat it up like wildfire. He looks at me with another sorry expression and I'm curious of what it is. He looks behind himself, and then another look at me. I'm starting to think of what he'll do. Will he mock me in the school tomorrow? No. I've seen him walk around in school, very sociable, and yet, he hates gossip and rumours. A pounding headache greats my head again, and I feel like I'm going to die of starvation.

The baker's son looks at me once more, and then throws a loaf at my feet.I blink and think of the situation. A merchant class boy, pitying a Seam child? Unlikely. I look at him for reassurance, but he'd already ran back into his house, but I swear he shot me a glance before he left. There was another loaf given to me.

Taking in the situation, I take the loaves of bread, well, burnt bread, and I study it before it sops up the rain water. Burnt, yes. But edible still, indeed. I put them into my jacket and the slightest and smallest of all smiles creeps up on my lips. This boy had just saved me, saved me from starvation. The warm glow and heat radiated by the bread gives me a sense of security, in this world we live in. I continue to jog in the rain, and I finally reach the door. Wait till Prim sees what I have. I know his name, though. He has been mentioned a lot at school, by teachers and students alike. His name's Peeta. I've never talked to him, but I certainly owe him. I owe him my life, for saving me.


End file.
